I saw this question on a placard at Physical Therapy this week. It made me stop in my tracks. How would you respond?
Want to read more one liners? Pop over to Linda Hill’s place and while you’re there, why not join in?
The windy weather over the last two days wreaked havoc on my blooming flowers. My poor irises standing tall on a long single stalk were no match for the wind. They finally bloomed and then the wind came.
Bearded irises are so beautiful. You can hardly see the beards on these blooms, however. They have long been a favorite of mine.
I have been researching how to manage the spread of these gorgeous flowers. I am learning and know I must thin them out and give them air, space, and sunshine in order for them to flower. Out of the 50 or so plants I seem to have, only a handful bloom.
Unfortunately, this is not the right time to thin and replant. From what I have read, it is a task for late summer. I suspect I will offer many of them to neighbors when the time comes. I can imagine how glorious they can be. For now I will clear all the fallen leaves from around their roots and admire the blooms left to come.
Beside the irises in the photo are the yellow blooms from a native azalea. We have several of them around the property. Their delicate blooms suffer in the wind as well. The last photo is of the hanging flower basket I bought on Friday. She is glorious I think.
Are you a gardener? I think it takes a special gift and a lot of knowledge I do not possess. I am a really dedicated admirer, however, and I think that accounts for something, don’t you?
Good morning. It’s Monday and these are the thoughts running through my head.
See you tomorrow – perhaps with photos from the dark side of the moon.
Easter morning always arrives with a dash of melancholy for me. I am sure it is because I am the only living member of the nuclear family I was born into. I somehow never imagined the day when I would be the only one left. I am the only person on earth now that holds the memories of my paternal grandparents (my father was an only child), my parents, and my three siblings. It is a lonely feeling as I recall those childhood memories that no one else can share with me anymore.
I woke thinking about how much my father loved to go to Easter sunrise service. Normal church service would follow with my sisters and I donning new Easter dresses with scratchy crinolines and too tight new patent leather shoes. My brother would be dressed in a suit jacket with a bow tie — a Mini Me of my father. Mom’s dark brown hair would be styled perfectly. She carried her purse across her arm (which I knew concealed some wintergreen mints inside).
My mood has been lightened by lovely texts from my children sharing their own Easter memories. I am so blessed to have them — the three of us sharing memories of our own nuclear family of which we are all that remain. They are each building their own legacies with their own beautifully layered memories engrained in their children’s minds. There is an eloquence in progression of life and family.
With all of our combined family apart from us this year, hubby and I will have a quiet day. There will be no Easter baskets or hiding of eggs or tales of the Easter bunny typical when our grandchildren were with us. Time passes so quickly and I am so thankful for the life and the memories I have. Our youngest grandchild will be three next month, our eldest 24. They are joyful and full of life and for that I am forever thankful.
I close with Easter post with this instrumental. I can almost close my eyes and hear my grandmother humming along as she busied herself preparing our Easter meal. Melancholy is not sad as much as it is reflective and remembering what once was.
Happy Easter everyone.
I have not written ann SoCS post since 2024. That is a long time but I am up for the challenge today. All the SoCS details are here. You might just want to join in and make some new friends.
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “hide.” Use it way you’d like. Enjoy!
I did ponder the word hide before I sat down to write. I am not sure how conscious my stream of thoughts are this morning but here goes.
In what seems another life ago, my ex husband, my children, and I were driving a U-Haul moving back to Alaska from Maine. It was an arduous journey to say the least. We stayed the night in a hotel in Missoula, Montana and were up before sunrise to get on the road early.
Road trips with my ex were never enjoyable. They were always high stress so getting two young children up, dressed, fed and in the cab seat of a U-Haul was a challenge. The first stop was at a gas station to fill up the truck. We sat in the darkness crammed into the seat while my ex got out to fill the tank.
Both my son and daughter had their eyes closed hoping to drift back to sleep. Suddenly a car drove into the gas station just ahead of the gas pumps. When the doors of the car opened, my heart started to race. A sense of fear ran over me.
Two men stepped out of the car, both with ski masks on. I started to panic. My mom brain said surely they would not harm my children. I then imagined them stealing our money and it was all we had in the world. It was the early 1980s and traveling through Canada and across the Alcan into Alaska, cash was necessary. Very few places accepted credit card.
Slowly while trying to be nonchalant, I slowly opened my purse in my lap and started taking portions of the cash we had so I could hide it. I opened the glove box and put some cash there. I tucked some cash between the seat cushion and the back. I slipped some under the seat. My crazy thoughts were that even if they got most of the money, we would have something to help us get out of the predicament we found ourselves in.
My ex just continued to pump gas. He never reacted and that alone was making me even more anxious. I do not know what I expected him to do, but maybe just try to protect us all.
After the tank was full, he was returning the hose to the pump. I then glanced to the side window and saw the two men coming out of the store with masks off laughing. The attendant was with them and did not seem amused. I will never know the exact story, but it appeared this was a joke – a prank two friends decided to play on their buddy, They were laughing but I was not amused.
I do not recall the conversation in its entirety, but my ex of course thought I overreacted and was annoyed I had stashed money all over the cab of the truck.
There was a reason he ended up being my ex!
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